A Thousand Lifetimes
I mentioned this theory of mine, an idea that has been simmering in my mind as I wrote my books: "All my books are set in the same world (you'll see THE RED LANTERN INN and THE HOUSE OF BRIGHT FLOWERS reappear in all my works set around the capital) and people in Joseon Dynasty Korea believed that marriage was a union between two people who had encountered each other over a thousand times in their past lives. So what if every couple in my book was a reincarnation of...the same couple?”
I mentioned this, and so many of you loved the idea! So I wrote a one-shot based on this premise. Hope you enjoy the read!
32 AD
Her:
“There is an old saying,” a shaman once told me. “Marriage is the union of souls who have crossed paths through a thousand lives. You and the prince… you have a long journey ahead.” Her brows furrowed as she studied the Book of Changes with such focus, like she were glimpsing scenes playing out on the pages. “You are just beginning your first life, and you will need to search through countless lifetimes to reunite—finding each other as infants, as children, as adults, as elders. Sometimes as friends, often as strangers, very rarely as lovers, and once as sworn enemies.” She shook her head, a sympathetic tsk escaping her lips. “You poor, poor souls.”
Her words had confused me then, and I had no idea which ‘prince’ she meant. But they resurfaced in my thoughts the moment I met Prince Hodong.
I was but eighteen summers when I first laid eyes upon him, a day seared into my memories. The air had been thick with tales of a young prince from a distant kingdom, victorious in a grand hunt, having captured a white deer—a creature revered as divine. My father, King Choe Ri of Nakrang, had been present at this grand spectacle, and like a prize catch, he had presented Prince Hodong to me with great fanfare.
“He is adored and respected wherever he goes!” Father declared, giving Prince Hodong a hearty clap on the back. “And why wouldn’t he be? Such vibrant charm! Such remarkable hunting skills, and a keen intellect!”
From beneath my lashes, I had stolen a glance at Prince Hodong. His long, black hair, half-tied, flowed down broad shoulders. His ears, bright with gold earrings. And in that moment, I felt his gaze upon me, staring at me the way a poet might gaze upon the full moon.
Our eyes locked.
The high panes of his cheeks turned red, and we’d looked away abruptly.
Only for our eyes to hold again.
How my traitorous little heart quickened.
Sister pulled me aside later, leading me to a pavilion overlooking the lotus pond. “The way that prince looked at you! He’s utterly besotted, and you seem enchanted as well,” she said, her tone sharp and accusatory. “Do you not realize who he is? The first son of King Daemusin of the Goguryeo Kingdom, our enemy. Father may seek to unite you both, he will want to forge an alliance. But you must not allow this!”
“Why should I not?” I questioned, my cheeks still flushed.
“King Daemusin is as cunning as the fox and as greedy as the serpent. His son shall surely break your heart—mark my words.”
Sister had been right.
But Prince Hodong did not merely shatter my heart; he had laid waste to my kingdom.
My home.
Now, I stand by my window, staring at the war-torn land of Nakrang, my breaths shallow and quick, each inhale a stab of pain.
“I adore you, I adore you,” he whispered into my ear on the day of our marriage two years ago. “I cherish you more than my own life, more than anything I possess.” He held me tightly, as if he wanted to shelter me beneath his ribs, guarding me from his scheming father and the greedy ministers. “I will always love you, in this and in every lifetime.”
I had kept him at arm’s length at first, my heart wrapped in a thorn of suspicion. He had declared his love too soon, unveiling his feelings far too quickly. Surely this wasn’t love. Was he merely a pawn in his father’s game? Was it all an act, a strategic move? Yet as days turned into months, and months into years, the memories of his warmth, kindness, and devotion had carved into me this deep well of love.
And trust.
Trust…
I stared at my trembling hands now, gripping the crumpled missive from the prince.
My dearest,
You know, as I do, that our kingdoms cannot coexist—just as two tigers cannot share a single mountain. As long as Nakrang remains, Goguryeo will suffer, and we will never reclaim our people imprisoned in your land.
The time has come. You must destroy the legendary jamyeonggo, the drum with the mysterious power to protect your kingdom. If you do not, our army will have no choice but to attack, and nothing will change that outcome. Your enchanted jamyeonggo will beat on its own once more, alerting the Nakrang army to our invasion. If that happens, we will face the same fate as in the previous war. Goguryeo will be no more. I will be no more.
I could not forgive Prince Hodong for asking this of me, nor could I forgive myself for agreeing to it.
Now, amidst the bloodshed, I felt like a child—foolish and naive. In my desperate attempt to save him, driven by what I believed was grand love, I had sacrificed my own kingdom. What once felt like a profound bond of fate now seemed trivial before the sight of lifeless bodies.
“For what purpose?” I whispered, the words burning in my chest. “All this for a prince?”
The chamber lay still, gray sunlight filtering through the smoke and dust, trickling in through the window. The deep crimson curtains swayed gently from the wooden beams, their golden tassels glinting in the light. My quarters remained unchanged, trapped in time.
The doors slid open, and I needed not turn to recognize the footsteps of the general, my father’s right hand.
It was not death I feared. No, it was the realization that I had betrayed those I cherished and…
I buried my fingers into my eyes, stars exploding painfully behind my eyelids.
"This lifetime feels too short to love you fully." The Prince’s whispered words echoed in my mind. "I will always return to you in every lifetime. Always, even when kingdoms have passed away."
All his embraces, his kisses, every sweet promise—had they been nothing more than a tactic of war?
“Princess,” came the general’s deep voice behind me. “Your father summons you.”
him:
Father had known—oh, how he had known—that I was utterly besotted with the Princess of Nakrang. From the very beginning, it must have been evident. I returned to my father’s palace, wild-eyed and breathless after meeting the daughter of the enemy king. He had overheard me confiding in my brothers, “It’s her. I must marry her.”
Father had dismissed my request, urging me to focus on restoring our kingdom’s territory. But I pleaded, again and again. In the end, he relented—but only on one condition. “If I grant you this wish,” he said sternly, “you must pledge to honor our kingdom and not disappoint me or our people. You are not merely a man; you are the crown prince—the future of this kingdom.”
I promised him, and then I married her.
Her father celebrated our union with a great celebration.
We were supposed to live happily until we grew old.
The naïve fool that I had been.
I blinked as a stream of blood trickled down from my brow. With a pained effort, I withdrew the sword from the soldier’s flesh, watching as he collapsed to the ground, motionless. Then I was once more on my steed, the clamor of battle behind me as I charged into the palace where King Choe Ri still hid. The courtyards were empty of life, wide open like the gaping hole of a grave, littered with corpses.
And then I saw blood staining the cold, granite steps of the Throne Hall.
At the bottom , she lay sprawled in a pool of crimson, utterly still, drained of life.
A desperate sob gathered in my chest as I gathered her into my arms, and my body trembled violently, I forbid myself from crying. I had no right to cry, no right to grieve, no right at all.
My letter had slain her.
My vision darkening, agony twisting my heart in thorny knots, I cradled her lifeless form against myself.
I clenched my teeth, a sob gathering in my throat. “I am sorry.” Barely, the words barely came out. “Princes, what have I done…”
Her eyes were vacant, as empty as the heavens above.
Father had commanded me to write it, and I had obeyed.
Destroy the jamyeonggo.
A crown prince, with the weight of his kingdom on his heart, would have prayed his wife would acquiesce. But deep down I had hoped she would disregard my instruction—that she would choose her kingdom, her father, over me. Just as I had chosen my duty as prince, as the future king, over her.
Endless surges of grief and self-hatred crashed against my chest, smashing against my ribs. A wail ripped out of me as I bowed my head to her shoulder, her head resting limply in my embrace.
“I beg of you, do not leave me.” My voice cracked, each word stripping my heart bare. “Haunt me in my dreams, haunt me through the ages, but don’t leave me.”
A cold blade grazed my throat.
The shadow of an armored man was cast over us, but I could think of nothing else but her. The woman I had loved. The woman I had killed.
The blade cut deeper.
Desperately, I stared down at her. One last look, I told myself, tracing the features of her delicate face, memorizing each line and curve. I prayed I would recognize her in the next life. Then, entwining my fingers tight arounds hers, slick with blood, I closed my eyes as the blade withdrew, hearing the hiss of steel as it returned toward my neck.
“Haunt me for eternity, Princess—”
the encounters
2024
Her:
I blink awake, drenched in cold sweat.
The strange dreams cling to my consciousness, echoing of drums, the mournful cries of a prince, and the shadows of rebellions and invasions swirl through my mind—always the same boy recurring in each vision. He wears different faces, but there's an unsettling, aching familiarity about him, like different renditions of an unchanging tale.
The dreams won’t stop.
They've been a part of my life for as long as I can remember.
On some nights, a prince looms, his bow drawn, an arrow aimed straight at me. On others, he takes the form of an inspector as sweet as a cinnamon roll. I find myself laughing with him, crying over him, riding a tram through the winding streets of old Seoul, standing shoulder to shoulder in the March First Movement. Then I’m torn from him by the division of the 38th Parallel.
They were just dreams.
I shouldn’t be sad.
Yet my face is stained with tears.
Heaving out a sigh, I grab my phone to check the time.
It’s 3AM, and I notice I have a new message on KakaoTalk.
My heart skips a beat.
It’s from him.
I grin, falling back into bed. My cheeks ache from smiling so much these days. Who would’ve thought? A new actress, who wiggled her way in after playing a thousand background characters, landing a minor but significant role as a manipulative concubine in a historical K-drama, would end up dating the lead actor—playing the king? He’d introduced me to his parents too, and to my astonishment—as well as everyone I knew—they had welcomed me with open arms.
“Mwoya… It’s kind of wild,” my little sister said, her eyes wide with wonder. “I thought the mom would throw a white packet full of money and tell you to never see her son again. But she hugged you? Wild, I tell you. It’s like… it’s like fate is conspiring to bring you two together in this life.”
I still remember the moment our worlds collided, over a year ago during the pre-production of the show’s first season. I’d thrown a careless glance in his direction, only to be met with surprise; he was already looking my way. Our gazes locked across the courtyard, past the throng of cast and crew. Among the sea of people, I felt like just another shadow, but he seemed spellbound, unable to look away—as if time had paused.
Afterward, I’d gone off to the side to sip on my iced americano, to cope with the exhaustion of being on set since the morning.
Footsteps approached.
I glanced up and felt my heart stutter. It was him. He looked a bit disoriented, as if the earth were slightly tilting beneath his feet. I felt the same way, likely from the sweltering heat, the sun beating down.
He’d then whispered the lamest pickup line, “Have we met before?”
I nearly choked on my drink, nearly laughed at him. But his voice was tight, and his eyes…
His eyes were dark, intent, and unsettlingly familiar.
“I feel like we have.” His voice broke, just a little. “I feel like I know you…”
And the strangest thing happened when he said those words. I’d felt a deep shift within the core of my being. Words drifted to my lips, words that didn’t seem to belong to me. They sounded as ancient as history itself.
“I knew you’d find me.”
